


she blows out of nowhere, roman candle of the wild, laughing away through my feeble disguise

by magnetichearts



Series: kiss me on the mouth and set me free [4]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Again, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Childhood Friends, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I Wrote This While Listening to Hozier's Music, Jon Snow and the Starks Are Not Related, Pining, don't get used to it y'all i never have an posting schedule like this, featuring my two brands, i can't even believe that last one is a tag but it's accurate, instead of recovering i wrote this, no word count control at all™️, sansa and arya bonding and being best friends/sisters™️, this was not supposed to be this long, yay i hope y'all enjoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:06:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23267428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnetichearts/pseuds/magnetichearts
Summary: “Arya, you remember Gendry, right?”Arya remembered Gendry Waters, the boy who was just starting to look more like a man the last time she had seen him, barely on the cusp of twenty. She remembered a little boy with sticky hands, who was unfairly good at painting and had terrible handwriting.The guy standing in front of her, no, she doesn’t remember him. He’s far too different from the boy she left behind, too bloody handsome to be the same Gendry she remembers playing with.or; arya and gendry, rediscovering what it means to love[the sequel tohooked on her flesh, based on the idea that people can see all colors except the color of their soulmate's eyes](title from "jackie and wilson" by hozier)
Relationships: Arya Stark & Sansa Stark, Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Jon Snow & Arya Stark, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: kiss me on the mouth and set me free [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1477814
Comments: 10
Kudos: 103





	she blows out of nowhere, roman candle of the wild, laughing away through my feeble disguise

**Author's Note:**

> i fucking hate myself, so much, instead of recovering from getting no sleep last night, i decided to write this monstrosity, i truly am insane and i should be locked up for the health and welfare of all. I wrote this also in one sitting, but managed to edit it a little more carefully, i hope you enjoy regardless. 
> 
> it is not necessary to have read the first one, but i highly recommend you do, because it does reference it quite a bit. again, modern westeros.
> 
> i really, really hope you enjoy this, i truly had a blast writing it, since it's been a long time i wrote something gendrya focused. i'm very focused on jonsa, because for some reason, the words flow out of me easily for them, but i love gendrya too, and my babies deserve their turn in the spotight. 
> 
> **important!!!!:** this is a sequel to _hooked on her flesh_ , a soulmate au, which is why it's in my _kiss me on the mouth_ series. i haven't created a separate series for this because i'm not sure if i want to go beyond these two fics, but if i do, it will get it's own series. thank you, everyone!

Arya cannot remember a time when she didn’t see color. From as far back as she can remember, she has always seen all of the colors of the rainbow, splashing over her sight. And god, they’re all so beautiful, especially blue. 

She doesn’t particularly care that she doesn’t exactly know who her soulmate is. Soulmates were, in her opinion, kind of gross. Like, how was the universe supposed to know who was destined for her before she was even born? And what if she ended up changing, and that person wasn’t meant for her anymore? 

So yeah. Arya doesn’t place much stock in soulmates. She had yet to see a couple happier than her parents, and they weren’t even soulmates. Well, maybe except for her sister and her boyfriend, but they were  _ disgustingly _ sweet, so she ignored them most of the time. 

It’s kind of annoying, though, when you walk into your own flat and find your sister making out with him on the couch. 

“Ugh,” Arya says, flopping into the recliner next to the couch. “Don’t you have your own flat?” 

Jon detaches himself from her sister and turns to look at Arya. “You’ve been over like, a million times.” 

She rolls her eyes. “I’m sorry, I thought I was mistaken, given that you seem to be here all the time.” 

Jon sticks his tongue out at her, and Arya flips him off back. “I didn’t know my presence was such an eyesore.” 

“It’s not. But that,” she says, gesturing to the two of them, “is. Frankly, I don’t want to see that after I’ve had a long day at work.” 

Sansa gives her a withering look. “Arya, you love your job. You said getting to analyze crazy teenagers makes your day.” 

“Yeah, I thought it would, but they’re all bloody insane.” 

“Shouldn’t have been a psych major then,” Jon quips. 

“No, but she loves butting her nose into other people’s business too much,” Sansa points out. 

Jon clicks his tongue in agreement. “True that.” 

“How married are the two of you? You’re not even bloody engaged?” 

Sansa rolls her eyes and gets up from the couch, glancing at the clock. “Jon, didn’t you say you had to leave for your shift at the firehouse at 7? It’s 6:45, you might want to leave if you’re gonna be on time.” 

“Fuck,” Jon swears. He grabs his jacket and phone and dashes out the door, stopping to press a kiss to Sansa’s cheek and give Arya a rushed two finger salute. She just flips him off again. 

“If I hadn’t known you two were thick as thieves, I would have thought you hated him,” Sansa remarks, handing her sister a beer while her own fingers curl around the stem of her wine glass.

“Oh no, I do hate him,” Arya laughs. “You’ve discovered my true feelings.” 

Sansa rolls her eyes. “So, how’s work?”

“The other day I had my first schizophrenic patient come in.” Arya’s entire demeanor softens. “It sucks that it manifests so young, honestly. Those poor kids.” 

Sansa hums into her wine glass. “Well, you wanted to help people with mental illnesses. I’m sure you can do that here.” 

“Yeah. But sometimes it feels like nothing I will do can help.” 

Sansa lays her hand over Arya’s. “You are literally the best person I know. I know you can do it.” 

Arya nods and takes a swig of her beer. “I guess. Oh, did you hear that Gendry’s moving to Winterfell? Robb told me last night.” 

Sansa’s eyebrows raise. “Uncle Robert’s son, Gendry?” 

Arya nods. “Yeah. god, we haven’t seen him in like, what, five years?” 

“Not since I was twenty, I think,” Sansa says, tapping her finger on her chin. “So then, four years.” 

“Remember he used to come over all the time? Like, from when I was three to eighteen.” 

“I remember how awkward it was for Mum sometimes because of Cersei.” 

Arya’s nose scrunches up. “Ugh, I’m glad she finally divorced him and left. I never want to see her or her hellish son again.” 

“Amen to that,” Sansa says, raising her glass. Arya tips her bottle against Sansa’s wine glass, but feels dread coil in her stomach as she sees her sister smirk. “So, are you excited to see him?” 

“Yeah, but why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Oh, no reason. Just that I think he was madly in love with you from like, the moment he met you.” 

Arya just stares at her. “Sansa, he was  _ six. _ I don’t even think he knew what love was back then.” 

Her sister hums unconvincingly. “Fine, I’ll concede you that. But how about when you were like, I dunno, seventeen? Didn’t you have a crush on him back then?” 

Arya Stark does not blush, but she does feel her cheeks growing a bit hot. “Ok, in my defense, what kind of boys were there to crush on in Winterfell? Hot Pie or Lonny? No thank you. Plus, that was like, six years ago. I’ve moved on.” 

“Yeah, but he definitely liked you back then, and he definitely likes you now.” 

“You haven’t seen him in four years! How could you possibly know?”    
“I just do.” 

“That’s not a good answer, Sansa,” Arya shouts, as her sister gets up to drop Arya’s empty beer bottle in the recycling and wash out her own wine glass. “Not supported by facts and evidence.” 

Sansa makes a face at her. “Since when have you needed facts and evidence for  _ anything?  _ Don’t you just jump into things head first?” 

“Don’t use my own logic against me.” 

Sansa leans forward, mirth sparkling in her eyes. “I cannot  _ wait _ for him to be back. Finally it’s my turn to embarrass you.” 

Arya glares at her sister. “You even  _ think _ about it, I’ll take your Versace perfume and dump it out in the sink.” 

Sansa stops, but then thinks about it and shrugs. “Worth it. I’ll just buy another bottle, the opportunity to embarrass you may never come around again.” 

Arya growls. “You’re gonna regret that.” 

Sansa just laughs. “Don’t be so moody, Arya. Come on, I’ll let you pick what movie we’re gonna watch tonight.” 

She grudgingly accepts the remote her sister throws at her.  _ “The Terminator _ it is.” 

To Arya’s surprise, Sansa shrugs and curls her feet up on the couch. “Ok.” 

“You _hate_ _The Terminator.”_

“Arya, I grew up with three boys and you as siblings. No one else wants to watch my romantic movies with me but Mum or Jon, so I’ve learned to pick my battles. Plus, it’s not the  _ worst _ action movie on the planet.” 

Arya’s eyes go wide. “Oh my god. I know what is.” 

Sansa’s expression turns apprehensive. “Oh dear. What is it?” 

_ “Piranha. _ It’s like, the dumbest remake of  _ Jaws _ there is, and the best. We’re watching it. It’s gonna be  _ hilarious.” _

“Whatever you say, Arya.” 

As they settle in to watch the movie, Arya on one side of the couch, and Sansa on the other, she looks over at her sister. Arya doesn’t do many displays of affection, just prefers not to, but Sansa is the only perfect person in the world, in her opinion, and she knows she’ll be forever grateful to her sister for sticking by her through everything.

* * *

“Arya, hurry up or we’re gonna be late!” Sansa calls. 

Arya comes skidding into the room a la  _ Risky Business. _ “I don’t see what’s wrong with that.” 

“Just put on some pants.” 

Arya groans and rolls her eyes, but dashes into her room and tugs on a pair of jeans, running a brush through her hair to make it moderately more tamed. Eventually, though, she gives up and tosses the brush onto her bed, in the middle of her tornado of a room. 

Jon, Sansa, Robb, Theon, Arya, and Gendry were all meeting up for lunch today, and of course, she just had to make them late. There was nothing that stressed Sansa out like being late. 

Arya grabs her phone and her wristlet before walking out of her room and back into the kitchen. Sansa’s there, fussing over her hair, staring into her reflection in the oven and trying to fix it. “Sansa, you look fine.” 

Her sister shoots her a worried look. “You think so?” Arya’s gaze drifts over Sansa. Unlike Arya, who’s wearing jeans and a simple t-shirt, hair looking like it’s been through a tornado, Sansa’s wearing a cute little sundress, hair braided into a crown, lips painted red. She looks perfect, as always. 

“Sansa, you look great, ok, leave it be.” 

“Fine,” she sighs. “Don’t want to make us any more late than we already are.” 

Sansa slips her feet into strappy sandals, while Arya settles for lacing up her trusty combat boots. Being so small, there was something comforting about how heavy they felt on her feet, like they were grounding her. 

Sansa locks their flat door behind her, dropping the keys into her purse. “Robb said he and the boys are on their way there, so we should arrive just in time to meet them at the restaurant.” 

Arya rolls her eyes. “Let’s go then.” 

It’s a short taxi ride to the restaurant, and as Arya hops out of the car, she can see Robb waving at her. She waits for Sansa to pay and climb out of the car as well before walking over and giving her older brother a high five. “Robb,” she says, solemnly. 

“Hey, sis.” Jon’s there, and he greets Sansa with a kiss before slinging an arm around Arya and ruffling her hair. 

“Little Stark!” Theon says. “Damn, you still haven’t grown?” It’s been about three months since she’s seen Theon; he was a constant fixture in their house growing up, and as one of Robb’s best friends, he’d been around forever, which was the only reason she let him get away with saying shit like that without pummeling him into the ground. 

Arya narrows her eyes at him. “Greyjoy. See you haven’t gotten any better-looking.” 

Theon mimes pulling a knife out of his back, while Robb steps aside, revealing a man behind him. “Arya, you remember Gendry, right?” 

Arya remembered Gendry Waters, the boy who was  _ just _ starting to look more like a man the last time she had seen him, barely on the cusp of twenty. She remembered a little boy with sticky hands, who was unfairly good at painting and had terrible handwriting.

The guy standing in front of her, no, she doesn’t remember him. He’s far too different from the boy she left behind, too bloody handsome to be the same Gendry she remembers playing with.

Gendry’s bloody _ tall,  _ and Arya’s easily the shortest Stark, dwarfed by Sansa’s more willowy frame, so she’s used to being around people taller than her, but this is unfair. He’s also annoyingly handsome, but Arya shoves that into the back of her mind to be revisited later. Or never.

She sticks her hand out. “Hope you remember me, Waters.” 

Gendry grips her hand, and his blue,  _ blue _ eyes never leave hers. “How could I forget?” 

“Gendry?” Gendry’s gaze shifts from Arya to Sansa, who gives him a sweet smile. “It’s nice to finally see you again!” She steps forward and gives him a tight hug. 

Arya can’t help the coil of jealousy that rises in her stomach when she sees them embrace. Not because she thinks Sansa or Gendry would ever have anything in between them, Sansa was too gone on Jon for that ever to be a possibility, but because when Sansa was around, guys didn’t notice Arya. 

Not that she wanted them to, mind you. She usually liked the fact that Sansa monopolized male attention when they were out, because if most guys talked to her that way they’d talk to Sansa, she’d deck them in the teeth, while Sansa just smiled tightly. 

But, she’s unfortunately startled by the realization that she  _ wants _ Gendry to notice her, to notice her other than Sansa. That was never going to happen, and it disturbs her that she wants it so badly. 

So she’s a little shocked when Sansa steps away from Gendry, and his gaze lands on Arya’s instantly.

For the first time in her life, Arya wishes desperately that she couldn’t see color, because she wants to  _ know, _ wants to find out. 

The blue of Gendry’s eyes is something she has always loved, but she’s a little upset that she’ll never know. 

She pushes all of that down, because it’s not the time to be thinking about that, but she can’t help but smirk at him. “What are you looking at, Waters?” 

Gendry looks startled on actually being called out on his ogling, and blushes red as they follow their friends into the restaurant. “Nothing. You just—you look different.” 

“Yes, that tends to happen after a few years. It’s called growing up.” 

Gendry makes a face at her. “Still annoying as ever, though.” 

“Shut up. You missed me, how could you not?” 

“Arya!” Sansa calls. “Quit flirting and get over here!” 

Arya flips Sansa off and makes her way over to the table, throwing herself into the chair. Gendry pulls out the seat next to her, and Robb’s on her other side. Sansa smirks at Arya as she sits down, and Arya resists the urge to flip off her sister again for fear of breaking her finger. 

“So, Gendry,” Sansa says, crossing her hands delicately, “do you have a girlfriend?” 

“Sansa!” Arya hisses, shooting her a death glare, but Sansa ignores her. 

“Uh—no. Not anymore.” 

Sansa’s face turns from scheming to sympathetic. “Bad break up?” 

“Is it a break up if nothing really ever happened?” 

Robb winces. “That bad?” 

Gendry shakes his head, a small smile on his lips. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.” He smirks, then. “What about you, Theon?” Everyone at the table swivels to look at Theon, who looks like a deer in headlights, clutching his butterknife in his hand. “Got anything you want to tell the rest of us?” 

As the rest of the group heckles Theon into giving up the identity of his mystery paramour, Arya turns to Gendry. “How’re you doing?” 

Gendry smiles down at her. “Good. Better, now that I’m back North.” 

Arya wrinkles her nose. “Does anyone actually  _ like _ King’s Landing? Everyone I’ve talked to who’s moved there hasn’t.” 

“My half-brother does.” His face darkens at the mention of Joffrey, and Arya feels a pang of sympathy for him. She could hardly stand being around Joffrey for more than ten seconds, she wasn’t sure what she would do if she were  _ related _ to him. 

“How is he?” she gently prods. 

He lifts a shoulder and drops it in a halfhearted shrug. “Terrible, as ever, but Myrcella and Tommen are great. They hate him almost as much as I do.”

“Who doesn’t?” she mutters darkly, taking a sip of her water. 

“I heard you’re a psych major now?” he asks. 

“I am.” 

“Got any good stories?” 

“Oh, would I be Arya Stark if I didn’t?”

* * *

“Sansa, come on! We haven’t been out to the pub in  _ forever. _ I really want to go.” 

Sansa sighs and turns the page over, pen scratching away at some legal documents Arya’s sure she’ll never understand, not in a million years. “Arya, we went to the pub two weeks ago.” 

Arya gives her sister a look. “Sansa, we’re British. It’s like, stereotypically expected of us to go drinking out a lot.” 

“I’m not in uni anymore, Arya. I can’t just go out drinking whenever I want. My boss wants me to find a couple more documents before the big case in a few days, and I don’t want to put it off.” 

“First of all, you didn’t go drinking even when you were in uni, so that argument is invalid, and unless the case is tomorrow morning, I don’t want to hear about it. You can just do that later. Please? You’re not going to let your poor little sister go out alone, are you?” Arya tries for the innocent schtick, pouting her lip and batting her eyelashes, but Sansa doesn’t fall for it, of course. 

“Can it with the innocent angel act, Arya. You’re definitely more of the devil.” Sansa sighs, still looking unsure, but Arya knows she’s got her when she runs a hand through her red hair and sets down her pen. 

“You can flirt with as many guys as you want, but I’m not doing anything other than getting a nice glass of wine and sitting at the bar, ok?” 

Arya holds up her hands. “I wasn’t expecting anything else. And I’m not going to flirt with anyone. I just want a good beer and to kick everyone’s asses at pool.” 

“How late are you planning on staying out?” 

Arya shrugs. “I dunno. 1 am?” 

_ “Bloody hell,” _ Sansa curses. She presses the button on the lift so they can head down. “How do I let you talk me into these things when I can barely stand up straight?” 

Arya smiles cheekily at her. “Because I’m your little sister and you love me.” 

“Unfortunately.” 

They decide to head to  _ The Wall, _ a favorite among their friend group and locals in Winterfell. It’s helpful that it’s also owned by Davos, a close friend of Gendry and Jon’s, so they always feel welcome there. 

When they step into the pub, it’s warm, but almost empty, as it’s a weeknight, and Sansa immediately peels off her jacket. “Come on,” Arya says, spotting two seats at the bar. 

They toss their jackets onto the bar, which, thankfully, is shockingly clean for a bar.  _ The Wall _ is a good bar, the kind that’s respected and not seedy. Arya slides into the empty seat on the left, while Sansa takes the one on the right. 

“What can I get for you—oh.” Arya stops short as the bartender comes into view. 

“Gendry?” Sansa asks. “What are you doing?” 

“Clearly masquerading as a bartender to hit on girls, Sansa,” Arya deadpans. “God, Sansa, catch up already.” 

Sansa flips off Arya with a neatly manicured finger, not even looking at her. “I mean, I didn’t know you worked here.” 

He shrugs. “It makes for good extra cash, and I like helping Davos out. It’s not like I have anything better to do.” 

“Aren’t you an engineer?” Arya asks. 

“Yeah.” 

“So how come you’re not too busy for all this?” 

“Because I’m 26 and they’re not going to give the good projects fresh to a kid who’s barely out of college,” he laughs. “Even if I have been there for 3 years. I mostly just assist on other people’s projects.” 

“Well, I’ll take a Jack,” Arya says. “Sansa, what about you?” 

“Club soda.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Arya, I’m not drinking tonight. I don’t need a hangover headache on top of the one I’ve already got.” 

Arya’s gaze turns concerned as Gendry goes off to fetch their drinks. Sure, Sansa’s been beaten down before, but the universe be damned if it thought Arya was just going to sit by and watch her sister struggle. “Are you alright?” 

Sansa offers her a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, I am. I think I’ll just sit here and sip my club soda. It’s nothing bad, Arya, just a lot of work. It’s not anything I can’t handle.” 

Arya’s not convinced, but that’s probably her overprotectiveness of Sansa more than anything else. As sisters, the two of them are ridiculously protective of one another, perhaps to a fault at times. Sansa doesn’t lie to her, not ever, so she lets the matter drop. “Are you sure you’re ok with staying here?” 

Sansa nods. “Of course. I’m not letting my little sister loose in a bar full of heathens.” 

Arya chokes back a laugh. “Heathens? Sans, I carry a switchblade and I took judo for like, thirteen years straight. Not to mention, there’s like, four people here. I think I’ll be fine. Are you sure? I can call Jon.” 

Sansa shakes her head. “No. I think I’ll just read something on her phone.” She gives Arya a pointed look. “Plus, if you’re not talking to me, it gives you a  _ great _ excuse to flirt with a certain bartender.” 

“Gendry and I are not flirting. Besides, he doesn’t even like me like that. He’s known me for like, ever, ok. He probably sees me as like, a little sister more than anything.” The words cut painfully into Arya’s heart, but she ignores it. 

“Hmm. Still, it looks like he wants to kiss you.” 

Gendry chooses that moment to return with their drinks, and because it’s a notoriously slow night at the bar, he flips the rag over his shoulder down and begins wiping it down. “So, what are you guys doing here?” 

“I dragged her along,” Arya says, tipping her head towards Sansa, who’s already engrossed in reaching something on her phone. “I just wanted Jack and to crush everyone in this bar at pool.” 

Gendry looks around. “Considering there’s only like, four other people in here, I’d say you’re out of luck.”

Arya shrugs, taking a sip of her drink. “So, what about you? Did you really become a bartender to hit on girls?” 

He laughs. “No. You know, Davos practically raised me, not my dad. I spent a lot of time in the back room of this place. I wanted to give back to him a little. Plus, I’m not looking for anyone.” 

Arya’s eyebrows raise. “Not even your soulmate?” 

His mouth twists into a wry smile. “Wouldn’t know who she is. I’ve seen color for almost as long as I can remember, but I don’t remember the exact moment that it changed.” 

“Amen to that,” Arya says, raising her glass. 

“You too?” 

“Don’t know who he is, where he is, his bloody name, nothing. I must’ve met him when I was young, because I don’t remember not ever seeing color. But I don’t really want to find him.” 

“Why not?” 

“I don’t know, it just seems so ridiculous to me, the concept that the universe knows exactly who’s perfect for me even before I’m born. You find that creepy, right?” He nods. “Plus, people change. I’m a different person from who I was three years ago. Who’s to say that my soulmate would have been perfect for me then but not now? Or the other way around? I just think the whole idea of the  _ other half, soulmate _ shit is fantastical.” 

“You’re not wrong about that. My parents were soulmates, and look how that turned out. He knocked up my mom, left her with me, married a different woman, and had the spawn of Satan.” 

Arya laughs. “Exactly. Sansa’s relationship with Jon is pretty perfect, but my parents are my standard for a happy marriage, and they’re not soulmates. They chose each other.” 

“So,” he leans forward. “Have any idea who you’re going to choose?” 

Arya feels her heart pound in her chest, so hard she’s sure bruises will be left on her ribcage come morning. If she was reading this wrong, she would be heartbroken. 

She had only reconnected with Gendry a month ago, and yet, they had fallen back into their old habits easily. He was one of her best friends growing up, and he still was. It was just so easy to talk to him, an ease that Arya hadn’t found with anyone in her life, save Jon and Sansa. 

God, she hopes she’s not reading this wrong, not just dreaming that he’s looking at her with dark, dark eyes and a small smile. “I might have a few people in mind,” she says flippantly. 

“Yeah?” A blush spreads over his cheeks. “Why?” 

She smirks. “I think they’re pretty hot. And they’re easy to talk to.” 

He quirks an eyebrow at her, but says nothing. 

Just then, he’s pulled away by Davos calling for him, and Arya turns back to her sister. “Damn,” Sansa comments, gaze still glued to her phone. “That sexual tension was  _ crazy. _ I feel like I need a cold shower now.” 

Arya smacks her sister on the arm. “Shut up.” 

“He definitely wants to shag you. If you don’t take him up on that, I’m sorry, but I might have to disown you as a sister.” 

Arya gnaws at her lip, a rare moment of insecurity overtaking her. “Are you sure?” 

Sansa drops her heckling and locks eyes with Arya. “Arya, I wouldn’t be telling you to go for it if I didn’t think you had a really solid shot. That boy looks at you like you hung the moon. I know you don’t believe in soulmates, but I think that you and Gendry just click.” 

Arya chews on her lips a second more before she nods, getting up from her stool. “Are you good to get back to the flat?” 

“Already called a cab,” Sansa says, getting up from her stool and shrugging on her jacket. “I had a feeling I’d need to, and it’s already here. Just get home safely tomorrow, you’ve got work in the morning.” She presses a kiss to Arya’s cheek. “Call or text if you need anything. Stay safe!” 

Arya watches her sister disappear out the door and smooths down the front of her blouse, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm herself. She could do this. She could randomly proposition Gendry. She might get shot down, but she couldn’t say she hadn’t tried. 

Arya peers around the back of the bar and finds Gendry coming out of the storage room, a notepad in his hands. “Hi,” she says, stepping out of the shadows. 

“Fuck!” he swears, jumping two feet in the air. Arya laughs then, clutching her stomach. “How are you so freaky quiet?” 

Arya smiles. “I took judo for a long time. Plus, I’m just small.” 

“What are you doing back here?” 

She ignores his question and instead steps around him, walking into the storage room. It’s large and wide, boxes of glasses stacked on the side. “Wow. Davos really runs more of a complicated operation than I thought.” 

“Arya,” he asks again. “What are you doing here?” 

She turns around and finds him staring at her. She swallows down the hope that bubbles in her throat and tries to play it off as cool as possible. “Sansa left.” 

Gendry steps closer to her, and she doesn’t move. “Why would she do that? She doesn’t seem like the type to leave you alone.” 

“She said she wanted to give me a chance.” 

His eyes flicker over her face, and suddenly, he’s so close to her, close enough that she could reach out and touch him, if she wanted. 

And oh, does she want to. 

“To do what?” 

And suddenly, it’s too much for Arya, and she feels like she’s suffocating in this tension between them. She needs to  _ breathe. _

“This,” she rasps, and then reaches out for him. His mouth comes crashing down on hers, and he’s shocked by the motion, rigid and unresponsive for her kiss, and her heart sinks in her chest for the briefest moment. 

And then, a switch is flipped, and his hands are at her waist, pulling her closer as he kisses her harder and deeper. He walks her backwards until she’s pressed up against the storage shelves, and presses his body against the line of hers. 

God, this was definitely worth it. Arya reaches up and tangles her hands in his black hair, tugging his mouth down so she can bite on his lip more firmly. Gendry’s mouth leaves her and presses kisses along her cheek before making its way down her neck, and her head tips back as he sucks a mark just below her ear before nipping his teeth down the column of her neck, shoving aside the collar of her shirt so he has access to her collarbone and shoulder. 

“Ahem.” 

A voice behind them breaks through their haze, and Arya shoves Gendry back immediately, flushing as she sees Davos standing there, eyebrow raised. 

“Um—uh, we were just,” Gendry stammers. 

“I think he knows what we were doing, Gendry,” Arya says wryly, running her hand through her tangled hair. She straightens her shirt out as Gendry blushes a bright red, staring at his boss. 

“Well,” Davos sighs. “I don’t know what else I expected from the two of you. Get the hell out of here. Go do it somewhere other than my storeroom.” 

Gendry blushes deeper, if possible, but Arya grabs his hand and proceeds to drag him out of the room, Davos shooting her a wink on the way out. She gives him a grateful smile in return, and pinches Gendry so the shell-shocked look on his face wears away. 

“Ow!” he says, jumping up before looking down at her.

“So,” she grins, “your place or mine?”

* * *

Arya rolls over on her stomach, flipping through the TV in Gendry’s living, looking for something to watch, dressed in his shirt and a pair of leggings. They’ve been seeing each other for about three months now, and she still has yet to find something about him she doesn’t find endearing. 

Even the things she hates, like his habits of leaving socks all over the house or half-drunk water glasses everywhere, are charming. At times, though. She still hates finding random water glasses when he still hasn’t fully finished one.

She hears the door open and turns around to see Gendry holding two bags of Chinese food. “Hey,” he greets, toeing off his shoes and setting the bags on his coffee table. 

“Did you get spring rolls?” she says by way of greeting, tilting her head upward.

“Of course,” he sighs, dropping a kiss on her forehead and smoothing his hand down the curve of her back. “And plenty of fortune cookies.” 

Arya smiles. “Good.” 

She gets up off the couch to grab a box of Chinese food out of the bag, and Gendry returns to the living room with two waters, one of which he hands to Arya. “How was your day?” he asks. 

She shrugs while chewing on a piece of sweet and sour chicken. “It’s always hard working with abuse victims,” she says quietly. As part of her volunteer work and training for psychology, Arya volunteers at a women’s shelter in Winterfell, specially focusing on victims of abuse. It was a good way to channel her anger toward those men in a positive way. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “No one should ever have to go through that.” 

She nods. “I know. Sansa was very nearly one of those victims.” 

Gendry stops chewing and looks at her. “What?” 

She bites her tongue. “It’s about your brother.” 

His face darkens. “If anything, I hate him more than you do, so you can tell me whatever you want.” 

“It’s not my story to tell. She just went through a lot of bullshit with him. I’m just glad she was able to get out of it before it got really,  _ really _ bad. She could have been one of those poor women.” 

Gendry nods. “And then she found Jon, you know, and things were a lot better for her.” 

They trade boxes then, and she digs into his pork. “Do you think it was because he’s her soulmate that he helped her?” he asks.

Arya pauses, chewing thoughtfully. “Honestly, no. I think it was just him. Even if he was her soulmate, if he hadn't had been  _ Jon, _ I don’t think Sansa would have fallen for him.” 

“It makes sense.” Gendry looks down at his chicken and then back up at her. “Do you ever think we’re soulmates?” 

_ Oh fuck. _ Emotional conversations were not her forte. All she could do was be as honest as possible. “The thought had crossed my mind,” she admits. “I mean, we’ve known each other for like, forever, and I’ve certainly seen blue for as long as I can remember. There’s no color that I haven’t been able to see. We could be, we met when we were so young.” 

“But we might not also be,” he finished, voicing her darkest thoughts. “We don’t know.”

“Yeah.”

“Is it better or worse for you, not knowing?” 

Arya comes a little closer to him and runs a hand through his hair. “Honestly, Gendry, I don’t know. I don’t really care about stuff like that. You know I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about who I was meant to be with.” 

“But we don’t know, Arya!” he says. “We’re not sure.” 

“Gendry.” She pulls him closer, touches her forehead to his. “I might not be sure of whom my soulmate is, but there is one thing that is true. I am sure of  _ you. _ I want you, not who the universe tells me to be with.” 

He sighs, brushing his lips against hers gently. “I want you too, Arya.” 

“Now come on,” she says, pulling away from him. “Eat your food before I do.”

* * *

“Arya, did you get the flowers?” Jon asks. He runs his hand through his hair, his curls going askew even more. 

She rolls her eyes, fixing his tie. “Yes, Jonathan. I got the flowers, I talked to Marg about the food, and Theon about the music. I have Mum and Dad distracting Sansa, and Gendry handling Robb so he doesn’t say anything.” 

Jon breathes. “Thanks.” He’s quiet then, unusually quiet for him, so Arya punches him in the shoulder. 

“What’s wrong, pretty boy? Fess up.” 

“What if she says no?” he says quietly. “Then all of this will have been for nothing.” 

Arya rolls her eyes. “Men,” she mutters. “Just when you thought they couldn’t get anymore stupid.” She smoothes his tie out. “Jon,” she says louder. “Sansa’s been in love with you for like, six years. I think it’s about time you proposed to her. There’s absolutely no way she’s going to say no.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes! Oh my god her face goes so sappy when she sees you, it’s disgusting. Seriously, Snow, lock that shit down and propose to her. She deserves it.” 

“Ok. Ok.” 

Arya nods sharply. “Good. Now, let’s get going! Sansa’s going to be here soon!” 

She ushers Jon out of the house into the Stark backyard, where twinkling lights are strung up and the whole garden looks like something out of a fairytale. 

After he situates himself in the gazebo, Arya ducks behind the hedges in the back to find Gendry sitting there, already waiting for her. 

“Hey guys,” she whispers. “Any idea when Sansa’s gonna get here?” 

Robb holds up his phone. “Mum says they’re two minutes away.” 

“Can you believe Jon went so far as to throw her a surprise engagement party after already surprising her by proposing?” Gendry asks. “Like, honestly, get on his level.” 

“It’s  _ so _ schmoopy. I can already tell Sansa’s going to love it.” 

“Jon?” They hear Sansa call, and Arya hisses at her brother and her boyfriend to shut up. 

“Um, here,” Jon says, and his voice is so high pitched and odd that Arya wants to stab herself in the eye with one of the rose thorns. She chances a peek over the hedge and sees Sansa dressed in a gorgeous summer dress, bright blue, walking over to Jon. 

She fumbles for her phone, and peeks it just over the hedge, recording what’s about to happen. 

Thankfully, they’ve got other people recording it as well, because Arya’s too far away to hear exactly what Jon is saying, but she does capture the shocked look on Sansa’s face when he digs the velvet box out of his jacket pocket and drops to one knee. 

The next part, Arya can definitely hear, because she’s sure people in Dorne can hear Sansa say “Yes!” 

She throws her arms around Jon, and after he slips the ring on her finger, he turns and gestures to the backyard, which Arya knows is there cue, and fuck, if she wasn’t born for this exact moment. 

“Surprise!” She jumps up and frightens the hell out of her sister, who stumbles back in shock, before launching over the hedge to sling her arms around her and pull her close. “Welcome to your engagement party! Finally! I think all of us thought Snow would never get the balls.” 

“Thanks, Arya,” Jon deadpans, but he’s smiling. 

Sansa clutches her sister back. “You all were in on it?” 

“Oh, Arya was more than in on it,” Gendry says, coming up to the three of them. “She practically helped Jon plan the whole thing.” 

Her sister hugs her tightly. “Thank you, Arya.” 

“Any time.” 

Before Sansa and Jon can say anything else, they’re swept up in a crowd of well wishers, and Arya and Gendry melt into the background. 

Theon starts the music, and Arya smooths down her simple black dress (it had taken tons of fighting for her to even relent to that, she loved her sister a lot, but she hated dress a lot too), looking for food. 

She finds her mother and father over by the refreshments, smiling as Jon and Sansa dance around the backyard, lost in their own world. 

“So, Arya,” Catelyn says. “When can we expect to throw you a party like this?” 

Arya chokes on her shrimp. “Excuse me?” 

“Oh, you and that nice Waters boy,” she says, waving her hand at him. “He clearly adores you. What is it the kids say? Make him put a ring on it?” 

She stares at her mother, horrified. “Mum, Gendry and I have been seeing each other for barely six months.” 

Catelyn sighs. “Well, honestly, I just hope he doesn’t take as long as Jon, I swear, I was beginning to wonder if I was  _ ever _ going to have grandchildren.” 

“Cat,” her father laughs, “Don’t be so dramatic.” 

“What? I can’t want the best for my children?” 

“Mum!” Arya shakes her head. “This is crazy, I’m leaving.” 

She leaves her parents squabbling and finds Gendry, sitting on a bench in the corner of the backyard, away from the party, and staring at the setting sun. 

“Well,” she says, flopping down next to him. “Be prepared for  _ very _ pointed questions from my mother for the next month about when we’re going to tie the knot. I think this whole party has given her wedding fever.” 

Gendry laughs next to her. “I can see why. It’s pretty fucking romantic, don’t you think?” 

“Sure, yeah,” Arya agrees. “Sansa wants that, and yeah, she deserves all the romance, the spectacle, everything. Me, this is like a nightmare. I’d never want something like this.” 

“That’s why I love you.” Gendry freezes as soon as the words come out of his mouth. 

They’ve never said that before, not to each other. Arya feels her mouth go dry, and she stares at him, heart pounding, waiting for him to take it back or say it was a mistake, that he didn’t mean to say that to her. 

But he doesn’t. He just keeps staring at her, waiting for her to respond. She cracks a smile and runs a hand through her hair. “I was wondering which one of us was going to say it first.” 

“You’re—you’re not upset?” 

“No. No. I mean,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “It’s kind of unfair, because  _ I  _ did want to be the one to say it first, but I love you too.” 

“Wow,” Gendry says, reveling in the moment. “I got Arya Stark to say I love you. I’m amazing!” 

“You’re certifiable, is what you are,” she counters, thumb brushing over his cheek as she takes his face in her palms.

“Maybe,” he says, “but you love me.” 

She pulls away with a disgusted look on her face. “Ugh, Gendry, that’s so c _ heesy. _ I kinda wanna throw up now.” 

He laughs and presses his lips to hers, and she reaches up to kiss him back, the world falling away like it always does when Gendry’s mouth is on her. 

“Get used to it, Stark, because now that you love me, you’re gonna get all of the cheesiness.” 

“I regret everything.” 

“No you don’t.” 

Honestly, Arya’s glad she can see all the colors of the rainbow. She can’t imagine her soulmate would be anymore perfect for her than Gendry. 

**Author's Note:**

> your comments and kudos make me happier than sansa with lemon cakes!! i'd love to hear from you all. you can also find me on tumblr: @parkersedith


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